


Once Bitten - The Curse of the Kirrins

by mandykaysfic



Category: Famous Five - Enid Blyton
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:25:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1382344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Famous Five find out the Kirrins have been cursed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Bitten - The Curse of the Kirrins

It started with a holiday camping trip. The five had ten glorious days in which to bike to Blackwood Forest, camp, explore the neighbourhood and ride home again. Timmy chased rabbits to his heart’s content. Anne pressed flowers for her collection. Julian, Dick and George swam in the river and raced one another and pushed thoughts of the coming school term firmly to the backs of their minds.

The air smelled good as Anne fried sausages over the campfire. She counted out two each onto plates and then passed around the butter and salt to go with potatoes she’d baked in the ashes earlier in the day.

“I always think,” began Anne, waving her fork in the air.

“Food tastes so much nicer when it’s cooked outdoors,” chimed in the others. They laughed heartily, Timmy joining in with a woof of agreement. Anne had slipped him a sausage to go with the meaty bone provided by George.

Cake and cocoa rounded out the meal. Everyone voted Anne had done her usual excellent job.

“You’re a proper little housewife, Anne,” declared Julian, as he did after almost every meal. When they were sure they had finished and no-one could eat another bite, he ordered everyone to their chores. 

As usual, Anne and George washed the dishes with George muttering under her breath how just once she’d like to fetch the water instead of Dick or mind the fire while Julian did the dishes. Anne smiled to herself; she’d heard it all before. “Maybe you could get the water before we eat,” she suggested. “Then Dick would have to help me. Julian always makes sure everyone does their share.” Even if he always told everyone to do exactly the same chores every time, she finished silently. 

“‘The moon was a ghostly galleon’, and all that. Let’s tell ghost stories,” suggested Dick, when they sat around the campfire once more. “It’s the perfect night for it, with the full moon. I brought marshmallows.” He held up a brown paper bag.

“What about Anne? She might have nightmares,” said Julian with a frown.

“Oh, no, Ju. At school we often tell ghost stories in the dorm after Matron does her rounds,” said Anne. “I’ll start if you like. This is one Margie told us two terms ago. I don’t think you ever heard it, George, as you were in the San that week.” The headless ghost of Sir Frederick of Forsythe Castle had them shivering in their shoes right until his bones were discovered where his wicked cousin Henry had concealed them after cunningly murdering him in order to inherit the castle.

Dick went next, sharing a tall tale of ghostly galleon, seen on the night of the full moon, sailed by long-dead pirates who guarded treasure chests overflowing with gold ingots and pieces of eight.

George got into the spirit of things, holding her torch under her chin as she told of fearful noises coming from a forest not unlike the one where they camped, and of strange sightings of a large black wolf with eyes that glowed like burning coals, who howled at the moon, the sound curdling the blood of anyone who heard it. She tilted her head and gave a long howl, causing Anne to scream and Timothy to join in with a howl of his own.

“That’s enough, George,” said Julian as he wrapped his arm protectively around Anne. “We’ll all be having bad dreams. I think we should have another cup of cocoa and turn in for the night.”

“But I haven’t finished,” complained George.

Julian gave her a stern look. George nodded reluctantly and offered to help Anne with the cocoa. When they were done, Dick pressed the last marshmallow into Anne’s hand. “Sweet dreams, old girl,” he whispered. 

“What was that?” Anne asked fearfully, for the fourth time in less than an hour. Every little sound caused her to start. The last loud crack of a branch snapping sounded as though it were right outside the tent.

“It’s nothing. Go back to sleep,” murmured George. “Timmy will protect us, won’t you, Tim?”

Timmy gave a muffled bark of acknowledgement and settled himself more comfortably over George’s feet.

All was quiet in both tents when a long howl broke the silence. Timmy jumped to his feet and barked angrily. He pushed through the tent flap and raced off before George could stop him. 

The eerie howl came again and Anne began to cry. “I know it’s the black wolf. I just know it,” she sobbed.

“I’m going to see,” said George. She pulled on a jersey and slipped her feet into her shoes, not stopping to bother with socks.

“Is everyone all right?” asked Julian.

“Timmy’s gone to see what’s up. I’m going to look for him,” said George. She pointed her torch at the trees.

“You’d better stay here,” said Julian sharply. “Timmy will be back soon. He always come s back to you,” he said when George argued.

George subsided, acknowledging Julian was right. “Here he comes now!” she exclaimed as Timmy bounded out of the forest. She gave a scream when she saw the gaping wound on his front shoulder. “Timmy!”

Dick grabbed a burning branch from the fire he’d stoked into flames and brandished it at a dark shape that appeared at the edge of the forest. “Go on! Get lost!” he yelled, and everyone was thankful when whatever it was moved off. 

The howl that sounded a few minutes later came from further away and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Anne bravely held the torch steady as George fussed over Timmy, ignoring the blood that stained her hands as she examined his injury. “Look. It’s a bite mark.” She splashed some water over it, wanting to see how big it was. “Ouch! Timmy!” She jumped when Tim turned and bit her hand. “You know I’m only trying to help. You don’t want it to get infected, do you?” She tried to bandage his shoulder, but Tim whined and struggled so much she had to give up. “We should go home. The vet will probably need to stitch it.”

“In the morning, George,” said Julian firmly when George went to get her bike. 

Nobody slept much and dawn saw the five eat a hurried breakfast before breaking camp. Timmy wolfed down a couple of pieces of toast and he licked the porridge scrapings from the saucepan before anyone could stop him.

They cycled slowly, despite George wanting to get home as quickly as possible. Timmy kept up easily, much to George’s relief. Shortly after one, Aunt Fanny and Joan hurried out to the urgent ringing of bicycle bells and Timmy’s barking. Joan took charge of Timmy, while Aunt Fanny tried to make sense of everyone’s excited explanations. She sent them all to was their hands and then come down to the sitting room.

“One at a time, one at a time,” she said, once everyone was seated. “Oh, dear,” she exclaimed, when George mentioned she’d been bitten. She frowned as she examined George’s hand. Already the punctures had almost healed. “Your father and I hoped you would escape, and probably it’s our fault for not moving away, but this land has belonged to the family for generations, not to mention it suits your father to work here.” She sighed and shook her head.

“Escape what?” asked George, Julian and Dick at the same time. Anne bit her lip, trying not to cry.

“I may as well tell you now. You’ll find out soon enough. At least everyone will be prepared.”

“Tell us what?” George leaned forward.

“It’s a family secret. You mustn’t tell anyone,” warned Aunt Fanny.

“We won’t,” chorused the four.

“A long time ago, your great-great, well, it would be eight greats, grandfather offended someone he shouldn’t have. Exactly what was said or done has been forgotten over time. It must have been something quite dreadful as she cursed him and the next twenty generations of his family.”

“Oh, dear,” said Anne.

“But what does the curse involve?” asked George.

“Do you remember Great-uncle George, dear?”

“The one I was named after? Not very well. We haven’t seen him for a long time, have we? What does he have to do with the curse?”

“We haven’t seen him either,” put in Dick.

“Did you know he lives on the other side of Blackwood Forest?” At the shake of George’s head, Aunt Fanny continued, “It was thought he’d actually escaped the curse, but it came upon him late instead.” 

“Aunt Fanny!” exclaimed Julian impatiently, when his aunt stared out of the window instead of continuing her explanation.

“I’m sorry, children. Now, where was I? Your Great-uncle George… there’s no easy way to explain this, so I’ll just come right out and say it. Your Great-uncle George is a werewolf.”

“A werewolf?”

“I’m afraid so. That’s not all. You see, because of the curse, we’re, all the Kirrens, that is, we’re all -.”

“Werewolves?”

“Father is a werewolf?”

“What about our father? Is he a werewolf too?”

Everyone talked at once. Aunt Fanny held up her hand. “You didn’t let me finish. We’re all _weres_ ; just not all were _wolves_. Shapechangers,” she explained, seeing the question in Anne’s eyes. “Some time after they turn thirteen, every person born into the Kirren bloodline will be bitten, scratched or otherwise by a living thing around the time of the full moon, and it is that determines their were-nature.”

“So Father…?”

“Is a wererat. It was a lab accident,” murmured Aunt Fanny. “And your father is a werecat,” she continued. “George, since Timmy bit you, you’ll become a werehound.”

“A were-dog. I guess that’s not as bad as a werewolf,” said George as she contemplated being able to run wild with Timmy every month.

“Oh, no,” said Dick.

“What is it, dear?” asked Aunt Fanny.

“We’ve been to the Chillingbroke Caves. I got scratched by a bat. Does that mean?”

“I’m afraid so. You’re now a werebat.”

Dick’s eyes lit up. “That would make me a vampire!” He turned to Julian and began to laugh.

“What?” said Julian crossly.

“We did go fishing, remember. And what happened to you?” He laughed even harder.

Julian froze in horror.

“But that means,” said Anne slowly.

“Our brother is a mermaid,” chortled Dick.

“A merman, if you please,” protested Julian indignantly.

“Anne, dear, did any type of animal bite or scratch you,” asked Aunt Fanny as Dick and George suggested Julian take a bath.

“No. At least, it was after we got home, but it wasn’t an animal.”

“Then what was it?”

“My Venus Fly Trap,” said Anne, and she held up her finger.

END


End file.
